


The Dinner Party

by bunilicious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo is a snack, Devoted Reylo, F/M, Fall fic exchange, Fic Exchange, First Time, Food Porn, Pining, Rey Is Hungry, Reylo - Freeform, Size Kink, Smut, Thirsty Rey, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey, domestic reylo, imagery hoe, victorian halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-10 22:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunilicious/pseuds/bunilicious
Summary: The boy she once knew was now a man. Now, inexplicably, the innocence and vivacity of a young girl’s first love seemed to blossom, growing into that of a woman on the cusp of something tremendous – the awareness of her sensuality. A new yearning bloomed inside her with each passing second – and the innocent butterflies, which had fluttered in her stomach at the thought of the boy she cherished, were engulfed in scorching flames. It was a fire that now rendered her breathless and desiring of something that only the man she loved could provide.As Ben took her hand in his to escort her to dinner, Rey became overwhelmed by a tingling sensation for which she had no name – a slick moisture which gathered at the apex of her thighs, a swollen nub which demanded to be touched and nurtured… like a small bud blossoming in a garden that refused to remain dormant.-----A REYLO VICTORIAN AU





	1. Entrée

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monsterleadmehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/gifts).



> For Alannah, will all my love. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story. This first chapter is a necessary prologue... an entrée if you will.
> 
> The prompt I am working with is: Victorian Halloween AU; a lavish Victorian era Halloween party.
> 
> Thank you to the headmistresses of The Writing Den for hosting this exchange. Special thank you to @loveofescapism for beta-ing this fic, and thank you to @midnightbluefox for taking a look at the early version of the first chapter.

 

 

_Will he think of me at all?_

 

Rey bit her lip nervously as the memory of their last meeting floated to the surface of her mind, overwhelmed by the strength with which that moment gripped her still – invisible threads tethering her to his large frame, beckoning her to cling to him like in a dance.

 

It was a cold, dreary January afternoon, the snow falling onto the frozen ground from a merciless sky. Takodana Manor somehow braved the harsh winds which scattered the snowflakes, sending them off on a hazardous journey until they collided against the large windows of the family drawing room. The roaring fireplace bathed the room in warmth and, for a moment, as she neatened her skirt in preparation for the next lesson, Rey wished she were anywhere but inside the house - the prospect of playing in the snow far more appealing than the task at hand.

 

Dancing, it seemed, would remain an accomplishment she would never master. Turning eighteen had not served to provide her with any wisdom whatsoever in that regard. Her chaperone, Lady Kalonia, was persistent – determined to continue these lessons – at least until Rey stopped tripping over her skirts and ceased looking down at her feet, which of course, was easier said than done.

 

“I have to look down,” Rey had protested when her latest attempt at waltzing resulted in her falling on the floor with a graceless thump. “Otherwise, I will trip.”

 

“Get up, dear,” Lady Kalonia said, ignoring her complaint. “You need to learn to be more graceful. You are one month away from your debut, and this display is simply unacceptable for a lady of your station. I have fired five dancing instructors before taking on this task myself, and I expect to see results.”

 

Rey had huffed in reply, crossing her arms in protest. “I need a partner,” she said. “One cannot learn how to waltz by holding their hands in the air.”

 

Her brother, Rey surmised, should have been here to help. She had not seen Armitage for weeks, only learning of his whereabouts from the gossip rags – one of whom proclaimed he was in London, courting the eldest daughter of the Duke of Parnassos.

 

As talk of courtship turned into rumors of matrimony, Rey’s thoughts strayed to Ben, idly wondering if he would follow in the footsteps of his friends and choose a wife for himself. A horrible tragedy had rendered him the last of his line – required by rank and circumstance to wed and sire heirs to the Dukedom of Naberrie. Her throat constricted at the thought, fully aware that when the opportunity would present itself, Ben’s choice would devastate her.

 

Rey burst into tears, agonized sobs that wrecked her soul as the possibility of sharing a life with the man she had loved from afar for years vanished before her eyes.

 

“Rey,” Lady Kalonia approached her. She leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on Rey’s back. “Perhaps I was too harsh on you.”

 

Shaking her head, Rey attempted to wipe her tears with her trembling palms. However, her effort proved to be futile, as more sobs burst free from the confines of her throat. “It’s n-not that,” she gasped in between her cries. “You w-wouldn’t understand.”

 

This was how Ben found her, crying on the floor, covering her face with her hands to prevent the onslaught of a new wave of tears.

 

“Rey?” The unmistakable sound of his concerned voice pierced through her sobs like sunlight beneath a gloomy cloud.

 

She turned around, taking in his appearance. Her gaze was unfocused and blurred, but she could still make out his large frame – albeit now clothed in black to signal the recent passing of his family.

 

A generation wiped out by a wasting fever as if they were falling leaves scattered by a cruel wind. A poisonous epidemic that had almost claimed Ben himself at the tender age of eighteen – threatening to let him die alone in his family’s home, surrounded by untouchable ghosts and distant memories.

 

Wiping her tears, Rey was overtaken by a strong feeling of shame. A few months ago, Ben had lost his entire family to scarlet fever, and she was crying about her marital prospects.

 

He offered her a hand. “Are you well?” he asked. Placing her hand in his, she allowed Ben to help her stand up, praying her unsteady knees wouldn’t give in as the warmth of his large palm engulfed her thin and cold fingers.

 

All she could do was nod, looking down at his knuckles and wondering what it would be like if she kissed them.

 

“We are so grateful for this visit, Your Grace,” Lady Kalonia said, her skirts rustling as she curtsied. “And in this dreadful weather too.”

 

“Varykino is only a short walk away,” Ben said, his large hand still holding her own, blissfully unaware of the feelings his touch stirred in her chest – the incessantly loud heartbeat that seemed to reverberate through her entire frame.

 

Somehow, Rey had mustered enough courage to look up and gaze upon his face. It was the same visage she remembered, the one she often dreamt about – the same pale skin dotted with fragile beauty marks, enhancing an already exquisite, if unusual, countenance. His dark hair – always longer than what was considered fashionable or appropriate – brushed his broad shoulders the same way they always did, constantly providing a contrast that startled her. A soft and contemplative face that eased into melancholy, bestowed upon a man with the height and broad frame of a trained soldier. Plush lips and a set of soulful brown eyes that seemed to somehow still pierce through her despite their tenderness.

 

Yet, beyond his usual appearance and the features that had remained unchanged, lay a weariness – a feeling of unease which bordered on guilt, one which bore the mark of tragedy and the persistent quest to find out why he had been spared.

 

Rey teared up anew, but on this occasion wishing she knew how to soothe him. Wishing she could comfort him beyond mere socially acceptable pleasantries that ultimately accomplished nothing.

 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What troubles you?”

 

Shaking her head, she looked down at the floor, her toes curling inside her ankle boots in uncertainty and shame.

 

“Lady Rey is struggling to learn how to waltz,” Lady Kalonia supplied, and for a moment Rey was thankful her chaperone had misunderstood the cause of her outburst.

 

“Is that so?” Ben asked, squeezing her hand ever so slightly. The gesture caused her to look up anew, and she almost gasped at the sight of his features.

 

The corners of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile, yet it was as if his entire face had changed, like clouds dispersing after a thunderstorm as they made way for the sun’s calming light.

 

“I find it very difficult to believe that _you_ would struggle with something,” Ben said, fixing her with his deep gaze. “Anything, really.”

 

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

 

“Perhaps you could help us, Your Grace,” Lady Kalonia intervened, flashing him a grateful smile.

 

Ben gave her a startled expression, visibly unaccustomed to be addressed according to his new rank, if the manner in which his lip quivered was any indication.

 

“Lady Rey is struggling with the waltz,” her chaperone continued, unaware of his discomfort. “I have seen you dance before, and you could certainly help her improve.”

 

Ben’s eyes roamed across her face. “You need a teacher,” he proclaimed.

 

“I need a new set of legs,” she retorted, loving the way his lips quirked at her poor attempt of a joke. “I am afraid an improvement would be nothing short of a miracle.”

 

“You underestimate yourself,” Ben replied, guiding her to the center of the room, his hand never leaving her own. “I know you, Rey,” he resumed – this time around in a lower voice – as if he were imparting a valuable secret. “You always succeed in anything you put your mind to and this will be no exception.”

 

Her eyelashes fluttered as nervousness seeped through her veins. “Not really,” she whispered, too afraid to voice her insecurity out loud.

 

 _I don’t have your love_ , her mind supplied the vital confession, one that Rey knew would remain buried in the darkest corners of her heart and soul.

 

Lady Kalonia rushed to the pianoforte, visibly eager to begin the instruction.

 

“Come now,” Ben continued, guiding Rey’s free hand to rest on his shoulder.

 

She obeyed him, pressing her palm against his black waistcoat. Her fingers brushed over the smooth velvet, marveling at the contrast between the soft fabric and the strength  of the body it so effectively covered.

 

Then, with a gentleness that astounded and excited her, Ben’s free hand finally rested on her waist.

 

The touch was electric, sending a warm tingle coursing through Rey’s frame – a fluttering sensation which spread its wings like a butterfly, journeying in a frenzied flight until it settled somewhere in the lower part of her belly.

 

“Follow my lead,” he whispered as he spun her in an exhilarating waltz.

 

Under normal circumstances, Rey would have tripped. She would have lost her footing and tumbled inelegantly, until her wobbly knees hit the drawing room floor – preferably without knocking over and breaking some valuable item in the process.

 

But, she realized as Ben expertly twirled her across the room, these were not ordinary circumstances. To describe Ben as ordinary would be a terrible injustice. He was holding her steady, knowing exactly when to turn and when to slow down. He was in complete control. For once, Rey was not worried about counting the steps in her mind. She was at last allowed to bask in the luxury of simply enjoying the exhilarating dance and the pleasure of his company. The joy of simply looking upon his face – when only a few months ago she had lain awake in fear, gripped by the startling possibility that he would be lost to her forever.

 

“Where is your brother?” Ben asked her once they had settled comfortably in a rhythm that matched the song Lady Kalonia had chosen to perform.

 

“Getting himself engaged, I suppose,” Rey said. “I haven’t heard from him in weeks, so he must be in the throes of romance.”

 

Ben frowned. “That is very unlike him. Armitage watches over you like a hawk. He should be helping you prepare for your debut.”

 

Rey tilted her head, puzzled by the sudden interest Ben had taken in matters which he had deemed as trifles many times before.

 

“I suppose love has blinded him to everything else,” she said, not quite knowing how to explain her brother’s behavior. “When one is in love, one appears to lose track of their usual priorities; they change.”

 

Ben gave her a quizzical look.

 

“Or so I am told,” Rey hastily added, feeling her cheeks burn under his scrutiny.

 

“I would not know,” Ben declared as he spun her around again. “I’ve never been in love.”

 

“Oh,” Rey exclaimed, not knowing if her heart should dance or bleed. Joy and sorrow seemed to blend together in her heart, brewing a poisonous mixture.

 

His eyes widened then, as if he had been hit by a stunning realization. “You’re in love,” Ben murmured in an astonished voice, his gaze lingering on her flushed face.

 

“D-Don’t be ridiculous,” Rey stuttered, but even she knew her denial was useless.

 

“Little Rey is in love.” He studied her countenance with a puzzling expression, seemingly unable to reconcile the thought. “Who is he?”

 

Rey stumbled then, and she would have fallen on her face if his grip on her waist hadn’t tightened. He pulled her up against him, resuming the dance at a slower pace.

 

“Who is he?” Ben asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

She stiffened in his arms, her back as straight as a rod.

 

 _He truly does not know_. The thought slithered inside her mind, spreading the most conflicting reactions through her body, a strange combination between sorrow and relief.

 

“It does not matter,” she replied, the fear of rejection bursting forth, the only clear feeling she could discern amidst the emotions which now churned in her soul. “And you should not be surprised by it,” she continued, the corners of her lips curling up in what she hoped resembled a carefree smile.

 

“Why not?” he asked, and Rey could see that his confusion persisted – etched in the slight tilt of his head and the furrow of his brow. “Come now, moppet, you can tell me.”

 

“I am not a moppet,” she bristled, and the corners of her eyes welled with tears as a crushing realization dawned on her.

 

Ben would never see her as anything other than his best friend’s youngest sister, the small chatterbox who would always follow them around in search of a playmate.

 

“Rey?” Frowning, he regarded her with something resembling concern – the pitying look one would give to a child perpetually stuck in the nursery.

 

She had never hated that look more than she did now.

 

“ _Little Rey_ is not as little as you think she is.” Her eyes lowered, and she fixed her gaze upon his necktie, watching with fascination as his throat constricted with each movement. “At least not anymore.”

 

“I know,” Ben said, and as he spun her around again. His hold on her waist tightened, a practiced effort meant to prevent her from stumbling again.

 

Yet, something about the stiff manner in which his hand brushed her spine made her look back up, her hazel eyes fixed upon his brown orbs in silent perusal.

 

“I know that now,” he continued, and as her curious gaze raked across his face, Rey saw how her words had dawned upon him. There was a tightness in his throat, signaled by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down – and she could have sworn his breath hitched when her grip on his shoulder tightened, her fingers sinking into the luxurious dark velvet.

 

She tilted her head as she allowed him to lead her, dancing closer and closer to the largest window in the drawing room. As the afternoon light bathed them both in its embrace, Rey studied his features anew.

 

“No,” she murmured as he spun her again, taking in his enticingly plump lips. “I don’t think you really do.”

 

If Ben heard her, he showed no signs. Instead, he looked over his shoulder long enough to instruct Lady Kalonia to play another waltz.

 

“You are learning,” he told Rey as they resumed dancing. He flashed her a disturbingly polite smile, one that seemed reserved for mere acquaintances who had encountered each other at their first ball.

 

Pursing her lips, she tried not to let her disappointment seep through. “I have an excellent teacher.”

 

“I assume the man you’re in love with will also appreciate your dancing,” Ben told her, his gaze resting, curiously enough, on her shoulder. “I told you that you will always succeed. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

 

“Men are fools,” she proclaimed.

 

 _And you the biggest one_. Her final thought remained unspoken. Deep down, she knew that it would be useless to voice those words out loud and face the prospect of his rejection. Nothing would devastate her more.

 

“Why do you say that?” he asked her, pausing for the briefest moment before his lips parted ever so slightly to catch his breath. “I wouldn't call the man who loves you a fool.”

 

“He doesn't love me,” Rey said, bitterness seeping through her voice, bursting forth with a strength that seemed to astonish him.

 

Ben raised his eyebrows and regarded her again, but this time his gaze appeared troubled, as if he could not comprehend the depth of her emotion.

 

“I find that difficult to believe,” he replied in a gruff voice. “That someone wouldn’t love _you_.”

 

“Perhaps the depth of his love does not compare to mine,” she retorted, lowering her lashes to avoid his penetrating look.

 

“Then he isn’t worthy of your affection,” came Ben’s response, his tone etched with certainty. “Perhaps it would be best to forget him, if he insists on being so foolish.”

 

Sighing, Rey tightened the grip on his shoulder. “If only that were as easy as you say.”

 

“Have you forgotten that you succeed in everything you do?” His remark came with an almost imperceptible chuckle, yet one that appeared tinged by a certain tension – as if he somehow feared that this endeavor would be fruitful.

 

As thoughts of a shared future journeyed through her mind, Rey shook her head to drive them away. Her dream was, she knew deep down, a mere fancy – a remnant of a desire that would forever remain unspoken.

 

 _Men are fools indeed_ , she pondered as Ben twirled her again and again, vaguely discerning the ending notes of the second waltz.  He was an excellent dancer, she remarked as they parted, but a thoroughly infuriating man.

 

“That was superb,” Lady Kalonia exclaimed as they completed their second waltz. She stood up from the pianoforte, clapping excitedly as if she had just witnessed a spectacle worthy of the stage.

 

Rey simply curtsied in reply, her gaze focused on Ben’s exquisitely tailored waistcoat. “Thank you for the dance. It was most…edifying.”

 

He bowed in response. “Edifying is an odd word to use for a mere dance.”

 

 _A mere dance_. The three words echoed in her mind, their impact nearly shattering her already fragile heart. Rey blinked away an onslaught of tears. To him, the dance might have been a common and insignificant favor, but to her… it was everything.

 

“You should call on us tomorrow as well, Your Grace,” Lady Kalonia intervened, sparing Rey the difficulty of having to articulate a detached response. “We could try one of the Polish dances as well,” she suggested. “They are very popular in London, from what I hear.”

 

“I wish I could,” Ben replied, clasping his hands behind his back. “Unfortunately, I am leaving England tomorrow.”

 

Rey looked up, her gaze colliding with his. “What?” she asked in a strangled voice.

 

Color drained from her cheeks as she registered the unexpected news, and she wrapped her arms around her waist in an effort to regain a semblance of composure.

 

“I came to say goodbye, Rey,” he replied, and as he uttered the last word, his breath caught in his throat for an almost imperceptible moment.

 

“B-but you can’t leave,” Rey protested just as the first tear escaped its confines, trailing down her left cheek until it reached her jawline. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, but the gesture did nothing to soothe her - and her hands shook from the effort to maintain a semblance of composure.

 

Ben straightened his spine, his shoulders growing stiff as he moved. “I have to.” His gaze shifted from her to Lady Kalonia, and Rey could glimpse his jaw clench in an effort to impart something of great importance.

 

However, he said nothing, giving her a look that resembled trepidation. The reason, however, eluded her. She knew Ben had struggled tremendously following the death of his family, so she could not blame him for the decision to leave and see more of the world. Yet, despite that, as Rey took in the stiff movement of his jawline - and the almost imperceptible eye twitch that always betrayed a staggering depth of raw emotion - a part of her became certain that his departure was not entirely without its fair share of regrets.

 

“When will you return?” she asked him, her tears now flowing unencumbered, no longer subjected to succumb to restraint. If he left for a few weeks - or a handful of months at worst - she could find a way to manage, to temper the fire that threatened to consume her and destroy all her hopes in its wake.

 

He looked down at the floor, and from that moment she felt her heart shatter. “I don’t know.”

 

“It is perfectly understandable, Your Grace,” Lady Kalonia interrupted in a good-natured tone. “I would imagine you are in need of a change now more than ever. There is no greater remedy than a change of one’s surroundings. One should always see new places and meet new people,” she proclaimed, giving him a motherly smile.

 

“Why?” Rey inquired in a sharp tone, eliciting a flinch from her chaperone. “Is there something wrong with the people one is already acquainted with?”

 

She fixed Ben with an inquiring look, hoping he would have the courage to gaze upon her face again. Her tears had dried up, evaporating under the sheer strength of her shimmering rage.

 

He must have sensed her need then, for he looked up, his eyes glistening under the merciless daylight. Outside, the winter storm had intensified, scattering the furious snowflakes in the cold wind.

 

“There is nothing wrong,” he said, and the corners of his plump lips curled up in a melancholy smile. “Surely you must know that by now.”

 

She fisted her heavy dress, a pale pink confection that seemed at odds with her miserable disposition, a garment designed to inspire joy - when her heart weighed heavily with nothing but fear and sorrow, trapped in the confines of a suffocating whalebone corset.

 

“I will come back to you, Rey,” he said in a soft voice, as if they were the only two people in the room. “I promise.”

 

Yet, despite his vow, Ben’s tender gaze seemed to betray a deeper confession, and Rey tilted her head in confusion and curiosity. In that moment, she cursed her own inexperience, the result of endless restrictions imposed upon her sex. She wondered if, she could have learned his meaning, had she been worldlier and more sophisticated. She bit her lower lip to compensate for the loss of words.

 

“I truly hope you have a successful season,” he continued.

 

Her eyes welled with tears, fully aware that even the most sheltered of ladies knew what his words meant. “Please don’t say that.”

 

“Perhaps,” Ben continued as he ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps you will save me a dance when I return?”

 

“I will save you the first two,” she supplied, her voice a trembling murmur. “I promise.”

 

\--


	2. First Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Duke of Naberrie returns...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who supported the first chapter. I am floored by all the positive reactions this story has received thus far. I hope you like this update as well. The author recommends that you grab a snack before or during this chapter... food porn awaits.
> 
> @monsterleadmehome this is for you! I hope you enjoy. <3 Thank you for the prompt and for your love for this story.
> 
> Thank you to @loveofescapism for being such a great beta.

\--

 

_2 years later_

 

 

Soon she would see him again.

 

Benjamin Solo. The Duke of Naberrie.

 

The last scion of a great and powerful family - a dynasty that had prospered, exempt from the restrictive practices which favored male heirs above all others. A dukedom that would have reverted to the Crown long ago, had it not been for its ambitious and enterprising duchesses.

 

Such were the benefits of a matriarchy, Lady Rey pondered as the carriage ride almost drew to an end, and Chandrila House – the London residence of this distinguished family – came into view at last.

 

Without such a benefit, she knew she would have never met Ben.

 

To many, Ben Solo was the embodiment of a venerable legacy, a titled and wealthy gentleman ripe for plucking - the crowning achievement for every matchmaking mamma and darling daughter intent on making a successful match.

 

But, to Rey, he was _so_ much more than that.

 

He was and would always be Ben.

 

Her Ben.

 

The boy who had rescued her from drowning in her family lake many years ago, who had picked her up in his arms without any effort whatsoever - despite his own youth and inexperience.

 

A strong autumnal wind had blown off her bonnet during her usual morning stroll and, in an effort to retrieve it, Rey had almost fallen prey to the merciless water, weighed down by the layers of heavy skirts and petticoats she loathed to wear. She had resigned herself to a merciless demise until, as if by fate, the young heir to the Dukedom of Naberrie had spotted her from a distance in a solitary outing of his own.

 

Their family estates had bordered each other for centuries, yet the residents of Varykino and Takodana Manor seemed destined to never cross paths. Then, on that autumn morning, Ben Solo showed up at the manor, holding the barely conscious younger sister of the new Earl of Arkanis in his arms, carrying her past the threshold and up the stairs while asking a concerned servant to summon the physician.

 

Rey had been delirious with fever for days, worrying her older brother as she lingered on the brink of death - until the third day brought about a marked improvement that saved her from an untimely demise at the tender age of sixteen.

 

She remembered almost nothing of those struggles, other than a need to cling to the safety and warmth of a broad frame which trembled despite its strength. Whether her savior had shivered from the autumn chill or the fear of losing her in his arms, Rey knew not. The cold seemed to dissipate under his warm breath of his mouth as he’d finally brought her to.

 

Needless to say, after her recovery, they had all become friends. Her brother Armitage had stood vigil beside her sickbed, encouraged by Ben to not give into grief, to never lose hope in her survival.

 

Ben, she would come to learn in the years following their first encounter, always held on to hope.

 

He held on to hope, she realized as her memories gave way to the reality of her current situation, until his own grief had rendered him despondent and distraught.

 

In the suffocating confines of the carriage, Rey let out a deep sigh.

 

“Are you unwell?” Armitage asked her. She looked up to face her older brother and his wife, both of whom were sitting in front of her with matching concerned expressions.

 

Rey simply shook her head, unwilling to arise their suspicions. “I am fine,” she replied, her fingers digging into the bright yellow fabric of her dress.

 

 _Grief_ , Rey pondered as she gripped the fine material of her garment, _always found a way to bring people together_. And, much to her misfortune, it just as easily tore them apart.

 

“I am merely worried about my costume,” she added, plastering a serene smile on her face as her grip on the skirt loosened.

 

In truth, Rey mused as she gazed at the incredulous look etched on her sister-in-law’s countenance, she had not entirely lied. Phasma’s left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly, yet she mercifully said nothing, opting instead to focus on the Halloween party they had set off to attend.

 

“It is very strange indeed,” Phasma began, turning sideways to look at her husband, “for your friend to throw a costume party to mark his return. Most gentlemen would have simply called on their acquaintances.”

 

Armitage simply shrugged. “Ben never does anything according to the norm,” he said as a matter of fact. “Costume parties were a staple in the Solo household. It seems he wants to continue these traditions.”

 

His gaze shifted in Rey’s direction. “I believe we only attended one, but I remember you enjoyed it tremendously.”

 

Rey bit her lip, hoping the dim light in the carriage hid the color which bloomed on her cheeks. “I-I did,” she replied, stifling the tremor which threatened to overtake her.

 

At once, Rey’s mind flooded with fleeting images of the extravagant dinner party Ben’s mother had hosted, endless courses filled with the most delicious meals she’d ever had – scrumptious meats which melted in her mouth as if they were pudding, followed by the sweet taste of one glass of sherry she’d tasted for the first time with Ben, sharing it in secret for fear that someone would uncover them.

 

“This will be a small affair,” Armitage explained to his wife. “An intimate dinner party with Ben’s closest friends and their wives, followed by a dance.”

 

Inside the carriage, Rey shifted in her seat, adjusting the yellow dress embroidered with a large sun on its bodice.

 

“And Rey, of course,” her brother added.

 

“That does not seem like a small affair to me,” Rey pointed out. “But that is probably because I hate dancing.”

 

“Your dance card will be full as it always is, dear,” Phasma said with a wave of her hand. “With the effort you put into your costume, it would be a pity not to show it off.”

 

The corners of Rey’s lips curled up in a smile. From the moment she had heard of Ben’s return from the Continent and the rebirth of his family’s annual costume parties, Rey had spent almost an entire week making sure she had the perfect ensemble. She had heard from Kaydel Dameron – who had heard from Sir Finnegan Storm when he had called on Ben the day after his arrival – that the young Duke of Naberrie planned to dress as the moon.

 

Upon disclosing this important piece of information, Mrs. Dameron had given Rey the most perplexed look, her eyebrows furrowed as if she were attempting to solve a complicated mathematical equation.

 

“Why can’t he dress as a vampire or a harlequin, like all the other gentlemen?” Kaydel had asked her over their afternoon tea, while they devoured large plates of scones and cucumber sandwiches.

 

Rey, however, had not been taken aback at all by the news. Her mind drifted to a moment they had shared under the moonlight long ago, as a young lady and gentlemen of sixteen, eager for their first taste of sherry and mischief.

 

If Ben wanted to be the moon – quiet and solemn as was his nature – then Rey would simply be the sun, enveloping him in a cloak of verve and radiance.

 

“I am quite pleased with my costume,” Rey said at last, focusing on her present surroundings.

 

Her right palm gently rested on the fine yellow fabric of her dress, while the other settled on her matching bodice, her fingers gently tracing the sun-shaped embroidery and golden ribbons she’d sewn in at the top to resemble its calming rays.

 

Rey had refused to allow her maid to pin up her hair, opting to undertake this crucial task herself. She settled for a delicate chignon, held together by a thin crown of golden flowers Rey herself, had made with the blooms picked from her brother’s conservatory – small sunflowers which seemed to proclaim the arrival of summer despite the autumn chill.

 

“I will never understand the fascination with dressing up,” Armitage complained to his wife, who nodded in return. “Ben and Rey will disagree of course, but at least I have you on my side, dear.”

 

Rey stifled a laugh. It was universally known that Armitage and Phasma were not too keen on entertainment which involved what they deemed to be improper clothing, despite their own youth. Her gaze focused on the couple and their costumes. They truly were a perfect match.

 

With a grumble, her brother had dressed in a military uniform which had belonged to a deceased ancestor who fought at Waterloo many decades ago. Meanwhile, Phasma had sewn in her husband’s old business letters to a brown skirt and bodice, declaring to all who would hear that she had chosen to dress as a wastepaper basket.

 

“I am not acquainted with the Duke,” Phasma began, “but perhaps this costumed ball is an attempt to recover his lost youth.”

 

Armitage furrowed his brow. “He is twenty years old, dear. What youth does he have to recover?” He waved his hand. “Ben and Rey are the same age. They are practically children.”

 

“I am not a child,” Rey said, her lips pursed in displeasure. “And neither is Ben. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

 

Her brother opened his mouth with the clear intent to challenge her, but his protest was silenced by a sudden stop.

 

“We have arrived,” Phasma proclaimed, eager to dissipate the beginning of a sibling quarrel.

 

As the carriage door opened, Phasma gestured in Rey’s direction, a clear invitation to exit first.

 

Repressing a sigh, Rey obeyed her sister-in-law and stepped out of the confines of the vehicle, placing her left hand in the gloved palm of a waiting footman.

 

She stepped out of the carriage, her left foot resting on the step for balance. A slight breeze ruffled an errant brown curl – tickling Rey’s nose ever so slightly – and in an effort to push it away, she tilted her head and looked up.

 

“Rey,” the unmistakable low voice whispered, and she gasped – stunned by the sight which now greeted her.

 

Soulful brown eyes that eased into melancholy, delicate beauty marks which kissed the expanse of a face she yearned to touch… a large gloved hand that enveloped her own in its welcoming warmth.

 

She missed the second step and stumbled right into his arms, his strong grip preventing her from falling on the cold and hard pavement.

 

Pulling her to his strong chest, he let out a deep breath which, in Rey’s mind, seemed oddly etched with relief. She looked up, her gaze colliding with his own, noticing how his eyebrows lifted in evident surprise.

 

“You’re here,” Ben murmured, pulling away to take in her appearance.

 

His gaze raked over her face as if he were trying to reacquaint herself with her features and, with unexpected abruptness, a warm blush spread across her cheeks as she wondered if he found her much altered.

 

“Ben,” Rey heard her brother’s voice behind her, and turned around to watch him emerge from the carriage and help his wife out.

 

Steadying her breath, Rey lowered her eyes to the ground, partly thankful for the reprieve – the feeling of Ben’s large hands touching her own frame too overwhelming to put into words. A part of her soul was thankful she could study the changes in his appearance later, hoping the presence of polite society would be enough to stifle her impulses.

 

The two friends chatted briefly before Armitage introduced Ben and Phasma.

 

“I have heard so much about you from my husband, Your Grace,” Phasma said as she curtsied. “But Rey spoke very highly of you as well.”

 

At the mention of her name, Rey looked up at her sister-in-law, pursing her lips in a weak effort to prevent Phasma from uttering something that could potentially be damaging.

 

“We were _all_ eager for your return, Ben,” Rey stepped in with a tilt of her head, eager to put an end to the subject.

 

After Ben’s departure, Armitage had returned to Takodana Manor a married man, too impatient to bother with the lengthy wedding preparations – or even to wait for his sister to brave the heavy snows and travel to London for the ceremony. As such, for the first couple of months since her arrival, the new Countess of Arkanis had to put up with a surly sixteen-year-old girl with a broken heart – who bemoaned the departure of boy she tried to pass off as a mere acquaintance in her conversations with others.

 

“I like your costume,” Ben replied instead. “It suits you.”

 

A slight smile played at his lips, yet the sight of it proved once more to be too much to bear. Instead, Rey’s gaze travelled across his well-built frame, registering the unmistakable sign of a gentleman used to physical exertion.

 

“Thank you,” she replied, her eyes focused on how his Adam’s apple moved with each swallow under the confines of his silk shirt and cravat.

 

He was dressed in all-black – except for a white cravat tied in a simple knot, tucked under a deep blue vest with small stars embroidered in silver thread. The round buttons of his dinner jacket seemed to glisten in the evening night – brass circles covered by smooth velvet, embellished with fine metalwork depicting a half-moon.

 

“Well then,” her brother coughed, interrupting Rey’s musings. “I suppose you won’t keep us out in the cold all evening.”

 

“O-oh, yes,” Ben gathered himself with a stutter, and she could almost envision him raking his long fingers through his hair. “Please come in. The others are waiting.”   

        

 

~*~

 

 

 

“Will you allow me to escort you to the dining room?”

 

Rey turned around at the sound of his voice, her conversation with Miss Tico and Mrs. Dameron momentarily forgotten as if she had been bewitched by his simple request – the allure of his presence dimming the chatter in the large drawing room which demanded his full attention as a gracious host. Upon his arrival, Rose and Kaydel quickly excused themselves and joined the other guests, aware that the festivities were about to begin.

 

“Shouldn’t you be escorting Phasma?” Rey asked instead, summoning the years of etiquette training she had been subjected to in desperate plea for assistance.

 

She schooled her features into an inquisitive expression, praying the slight furrow of her brows served as a suitable distraction. Yet, underneath the layers of clothing and the restrictive corset she wore, her heart was pounding furiously.

 

“I-I did not plan the procession ahead of time,” he confessed, a slight blush tainting his pale cheeks as awareness appeared to seep through his veins with each passing moment.

 

Rey knew Ben was very much aware that his duties as a host involved escorting the highest ranked lady to dinner, an elaborate procession which paired up guests according to their social position – as if the simple act of enjoying a meal required a full disclosure of the circumstances one was born into.

 

“Poe believes we should eschew formalities for the evening,” Ben supplied, biting his lower lip in a way that made her eyes widen with unspoken desire.

 

She fumbled with the delicate fabric of her yellow dress, tracing the delicate outline of an embroidered sun ray.

 

“Captain Dameron says a great many things,” she replied, thinking of the mischief Ben and his friend would get themselves into alongside her brother – scraped knees and muddy boots imprinted on the expensive carpets inside the country residence of the Dukedom of Naberrie.

 

Varykino, she pondered, always burned bright with joy and the sound of young laughter, until it became enveloped by the merciless shadow of illness and death.

 

She longed for the restoration of the peace and innocence which had been lost.

 

“You may,” Rey answered at last, her eyes lowering to the carpeted floor under the heat of his scorching gaze.

 

To look upon his face was… too much for her to bear.  

 

The boy she once knew was now a man. Now, inexplicably, the innocence and vivacity of a young girl’s first love seemed to blossom, growing into that of a woman on the cusp of something tremendous – the awareness of her sensuality. A new yearning bloomed inside her with each passing second – and the innocent butterflies, which had fluttered in her stomach at the thought of the boy she cherished, were engulfed in scorching flames. It was a fire that now rendered her breathless and desiring of something that only the man she loved could provide.

 

As Ben took her hand in his to escort her to dinner, Rey became overwhelmed by a tingling sensation for which she had no name – a slick moisture which gathered at the apex of her thighs, a swollen nub which demanded to be touched and nurtured… like a small bud blossoming in a garden that refused to remain dormant.

 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips a breadth away from her ears. “You always bring light wherever you go.”

 

The compliment stirred an old memory, the image of two surly sixteen-year-olds enjoying a glass of sherry under the moonlight, conspiring and dreaming of the day they would be old enough to partake in all the Halloween festivities.

 

“Didn’t we dream of dressing up this way four years ago?” he asked, though the amused glint in his tone told her he knew the answer already.

 

Still, Rey nodded, glancing up just enough to admire how his raven hair brushed the outline of his broad shoulders. “We dreamt of many things,” she replied, not quite knowing what to say.

 

The fear that her words might betray the depth of her longing was palpable, an incessant tremor that spread through her body like a forest fire.

 

“Perhaps it is time for our dreams to become a reality,” he mused, his voice lowering until it became a whisper, his strong hands guiding her to their destination.    

 

They entered the large dining room in pairs, with Ben and Rey leading the procession. Her brother and his wife were right behind them – as signaled by the crinkling sound of the letters Phasma had stitched to her dress. They were soon followed by Captain Dameron, now a decorated war hero celebrating his first year of marriage to Miss Kaydel Connix – a former diamond of the London Season who insisted that her husband should wear a harlequin costume that matched her own. Sir Finnegan Storm and his fiancée, Miss Rose Tico, entered afterwards, dressed as a vampire and a fairy respectively. They were a pair that would not have met, had it not been for Finn’s numerous expeditions abroad – his bravery in venturing to the remotest corners of the world earning him a knighthood from Queen Victoria herself.

 

When one considered the attire of the host and his seven guests, the dinner seemed unusually small. Yet, despite that, Rey appreciated the intimacy and company of her closest acquaintances – regardless of how difficult it would be to avoid the quivering sensation elicited from the contact of his large gloved hand with her own. The heat of his palm seeped through the fine black silk which covered it, burning away her restraints and her self-imposed rules of decorum.

 

To think of how his departure had disrupted the delicate balance of her existence was almost too much to withstand – intense anguish and the desire for answers seemed to fuse together until she could no longer distinguish where one feeling ended and the other began. She had thought of him every single day, concocting elaborate fantasies of his glorious return - dreaming of an arrival marked by a sincere proclamation of love, a confession that his affections matched her own.

 

When he let go of her hand, Rey felt the loss acutely. A slight tremor overtook her frame as she sat down to his right, the seat reserved for the guest of honor or the highest ranked lady in attendance – keenly aware that she was neither. Yet, as she watched Ben take the seat at the head of the table, barely an arm’s length away from her, Rey’s cheeks flamed with the awareness of his gaze upon the slope of her neck. Her mind swirled with an indelible mix of questions, but the thought which simmered just below the surface was that she did not mind occupying a seat that was not meant for her – especially if it meant that she could let him feast upon her visage.

 

As the maids and footmen scurried to bring in the first course, Rey pressed her thighs together in search of relief, grateful for the layers of clothing which concealed them.

 

 

~*~

 

 

The entrée was a straightforward yet promising affair, and Rey’s mouth watered as the first dishes were placed on the sideboard, grateful for the meal and for the effective distraction.

 

Society dictated that she not gorge upon the feast which stretched before her, that she eat sparingly and with impeccable manners, that she ought to take no pleasure in the fare the cook had spent hours perfecting.

 

“This looks so good,” she murmured, her hand reaching out to the cutlery in anticipation.

 

Rey had never cared for such restrictions. And, in the presence of her closest acquaintances, she felt less inclined to obey the strictures imposed upon her sex. Therefore, when the footmen presented her with the household’s choicest offerings, she refused none of them, filling up her plate with everything her heart desired.

 

Mutton cutlets in aspic, veal stew, chicken medallions and fillets of beef rested on her plate in silent temptation. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ben glance in her direction, a slight smirk starting to form on his face.

 

With a small blush, she dug into a mutton cutlet, her knife cutting through the meat like butter.

 

“What a delightful fare,” she heard Rose exclaim when she helped herself to a fillet of beef, and the others joined the newly engaged lady in a chorus of approval.

 

“I am in complete agreement,” Rey answered once she’d finished chewing the first bite of her mutton cutlet.

 

“Of course,” Phasma retorted with a smile. “From what I can see, these are all your favorite meals.”

 

“Every meal is Rey’s favorite,” Armitage chimed in before turning to Ben. “So, do not flatter yourself, Solo.”

 

“I wasn’t going to,” Ben said, and Rey took the opportunity to study his profile while his gaze did not rest upon her own.

 

For the most part, he was still unchanged. He had grown into his features remarkably well, yet the ridge of his brow still maintained its thoughtful appearance. The aquiline nose he so hated all those years ago still gave him a regal appearance, contrasting nicely with the softness of his lips and jaw.

 

She cut into the chicken medallion, the knife’s blade sinking into the tender meat with ease.

 

“You must tell us about your travels, Finn,” she heard Captain Dameron’s entreaty and, grateful to no longer be the topic of discussion, Rey settled in to listen.

 

Finn took a sip of his wine. “After our marriage, Miss Tico and I plan on exploring the Yavin jungles,” he began, laying out the plans for what would become a strange combination between a honeymoon and an expedition to document the local fauna.

 

The entrée concluded with copious discussions about waterbucks and their numerous subspecies, as Finn regaled his eager audience with tales of the evolution and dispersion of the fascinating beasts.

 

Soon enough, the soup course arrived, and it quickly dawned on Rey that perhaps she should not have stuffed herself with so many entrée dishes. She took in the fare which had been brought to her attention by the waiting footmen, not quite knowing what to choose.

 

Biting her lower lip, she chanced a look in Ben’s direction, noting with a startled gasp that his eyes were upon her, a mischievous glint discerned in their dark and haunting depth.

 

“I will kill you,” she mouthed, now fully at ease due to the jovial atmosphere at the dinner table, yet still conscious not to raise her voice and attract the unwanted attention of their fellow companions.

 

She settled on the pea soup, asking the footman who held the tureen to pour no more than two ladles of the delicious liquid in her dish. With a smile, she noted that Ben had chosen the same meal, foregoing the tomato soup she knew he favored. Their friends were just as torn over the rich selection of soups, some settling for the tomato soup, while others decided to try the heavier mutton broth or the delicate Consomme a la Royale.

 

“If I die from overeating, then it will be your fault, Your Grace,” Kaydel exclaimed as she took the first sip of her mutton broth.

 

“Perhaps it is all part of his plan,” Rey chimed in, her face breaking into a smile that seemed to warm her more effectively than the delicious meal. “All in the spirit of Halloween.”

 

“I assure you that my intentions are honorable,” he replied, and the way his eyes bore into her own made Rey’s toes curl underneath her yellow slippers.

 

Scooping a spoonful of her pea soup, Rey looked down at her bowl with a confused frown.

 

“What entertainment have you planned for us, Your Grace?” she heard Rose ask just as she resumed eating. “I daresay, I have never attended an English costume party such as this before. In fact, this will be my first ball.”

 

“Your first ball?” Phasma exclaimed, just as she lowered her spoon in her now empty bowl of tomato soup. “Then it is a good thing you have enough time to prepare yourself for the London season,” she resumed. “When do you leave for your expedition?”

 

“In June,” Finn supplied.

 

“You will decide to leave early, I assure you,” Armitage told him before taking a long sip of his wine.

 

“Is it that bad?” Rose asked, her countenance etched with concern.

 

“Don’t let my brother frighten you,” Rey said, giving the man in question a sharp look. “The only reason Armitage hates the season is because he has to escort me to every ball, dance, and soiree there is. And my poor sister-in-law has to chaperone me everywhere I go.”

 

“It can be a challenging endeavor,” her brother quipped. “Your suitors are terrible.”

 

“Suitors?” she heard Ben ask. His voice seemed curious, but, in the depths of his inquiring tone, she could discern a certain unease.

 

Shifting in her seat, her gaze wandered over his countenance, stunned by the expression etched on his features. His eyes betrayed a thoughtful look, and his mouth had parted ever so slightly. The small quiver of his lower lip was almost imperceptible in the dim candlelight, but her proximity to his broad frame made it impossible for Rey not to perceive his every movement.

 

“It is nothing,” she assured him, her right hand reaching out to grip her glass of gin. Bringing the fine crystal to her lips, she took a small sip, enjoying its sweet taste.

 

“It is _not_ nothing,” Kaydel protested as she turned to Ben, her face eager to impart information. “Rey and I debuted together, and she has never lacked suitors. They all compete for her attention in the most ludicrous and entertaining of ways.”

 

“Is that so?” Ben asked her, yet his tone bore no censure, much to Rey’s surprise. Instead, she briefly registered the traces of something akin to fear. Of what, she could not possibly endeavor to guess.

 

“I suppose you must not have had access to all the papers while travelling through the Continent,” Kaydel told him with a smirk that Rey could not help but find perplexing.

 

“It is all so ridiculous,” Rey said at last, setting her glass on the table. “Not at all what I want.”

 

“What do you want?” Ben asked her abruptly, and Rey could gleam from the discreet blush which now tainted his cheeks that he had voiced something which he’d tried to keep hidden.

 

 _You_ , the thought took hold of her with unfathomable strength, and the images such an acknowledgement conjured sent a wave of heat through her body, moisture gathering anew between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, the sudden gesture unperceivable under the table and beneath the layers of her golden costume.

 

“I did not imagine we would be getting so philosophical this early,” Captain Dameron chimed in, dispersing the tension which seemed to have settled over the table like a shroud.

 

Kaydel and Rose laughed in response, their cheerful sounds reverberating through the large dining room.

 

“I completely agree,” Finn said. “Usually, it takes me at least four courses and six drinks until I start thinking about my purpose in life.”

 

“So little, Sir Finnegan?” Phasma teased him as she took a sip of her port. “It seems that such a heavy topic deserves at least two bottles.”

 

“But, surely, that cannot be the answer to Rey’s predicament,” Kaydel resumed, seemingly intent on focusing on the topic at hand, much to Rey’s displeasure “If she were able to rid herself of unwanted suitors by bribing them with wine, then they would not be stepping over themselves to impress her at every soiree.”

 

“And now you see why I hate the London season so much,” Armitage said.

 

Rey clenched her fists under the table. “I am right here, you know.”

 

“Did you know, Your Grace,” Kaydel continued to address Ben with a serene smile, “that Rey has rejected at least four marriage proposals?”

 

Ben spluttered. “I-is that so?” he asked, and Rey could not help but notice how his gaze wandered to the side, as if he were trying to catch a glimpse of her hands.

 

The purpose of his search eluded her, but she unfurled her fingers and allowed them to rest gently in her lap, tilting her upper body so that he could see them – small hands and thin fingers, unadorned by precious rings and tokens.

 

Amidst the incessant chatter in the background, she heard his breath catch.

 

“Come to think of it,” Kaydel continued talking as the servants removed the soup dishes from the table and sideboard. “Rey has some very odd ballroom habits.”

 

Rey’s eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion, partly distracted by the arrival of the following course. The elaborate dishes teemed with a variety of meats: braised legs of fowls, pigeon pies, lamb cutlets, and a large turkey stuffed with potatoes and mushrooms.

 

“I do not have odd ballroom habits,” Rey protested as she filled her plate with a slice of pigeon pie, followed by a lamb cutlet and a turkey leg with a serving of mushrooms and potatoes for good measure.

 

“Are you going to eat all that?” Armitage asked her with a concerned tone that an annoying parent would use.

 

She popped a mushroom in her mouth and nodded, eliciting an audible chuckle from their host, perhaps the only man in Rey’s acquaintance who did not balk at her dining habits. Ben shot her a knowing glance, a look that reminded her at once of his mother’s costume party four years ago – when two rebellious sixteen-year-olds had sneaked outside in the pale moonlight, with a stolen glass of sherry and plans to raid the pantry for scones and pies.

 

“Odd ballroom habits and odd dinner habits,” Kaydel remedied.

 

Rey simply shrugged, as she focused her attention on the lamb cutlet, cutting through the meat with one smooth movement of her knife. “I embrace all my eccentricities,” Rey proclaimed. She dug her fork in the sliced piece of lamb and popped it in her mouth, suppressing a moan as her senses drowned in the exquisite mixture of spices and tender meat.

 

“And we all love you for it,” Phasma added in an amused tone as she served herself to some fowl.

 

“Come to think of it,” Kaydel mused. “Some of Rey’s oddities are indeed clever.”

 

“Is that so?” Rose asked, the newest addition to their group of friends.

 

“For example,” Kaydel said. “I really appreciate how smart Rey is about dancing, which can be so exhausting at times. Especially when one does not have the inclination for such exercise at every ball.”

 

Rey’s hands stilled, her grip on the cutlery loosening as a distant memory unleashed itself in her mind – the last and only dance she had shared with the man she loved, the promise she had made to him upon his departure. She chanced a glimpse to her left, noting how Ben’s own movements had stopped, his fork wedged deep in his lamb cutlet.

 

Ben glanced up from his dish, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

“You will find this most strange, Your Grace,” Kaydel said, resting her elbows at the edge of the table in a conspiring manner. “But, did you know that Rey always sits out the first two dances?”      

 

The cutlery slipped from Rey’s hands then, colliding with the large plate she had filled to the brim with food – the heaps of meats and vegetables preventing the sharp collision between metal and china. Trembling, she tilted her head to her left, her gaze fearful but simultaneously intrigued.

 

Ben’s eyes had widened, and his lips parted in both shock and – she realized as his grip on his own fork loosened – remembrance.

 

“No,” he said, coughing as he resumed his grip on the silver fork. “I do not find that strange at all. In fact, I rather like it.”

 

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. I value your feedback, so feel free to leave some lovely comments and kudos. They keep this author fed. :D
> 
> The second course will arrive soon.


	3. Second Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am floored and extremely grateful for the support this fic has received. We've made it to 300 kudos! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, sent kudos, and bookmarked this fic. <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the second course. As usual, beware of graphic depictions of food porn.
> 
> Thank you to @loveofescapism for beta-ing. Thank you to @monsterleadmehome for the prompt (This is for you!).

-

 

The unmistakable smell of the upcoming course filled Rey’s nostrils.

 

Large platters of fish were brought to the dining room with the usual ceremony, and she filled up her plate with mechanical gestures. A slice of salmon, a spoonful of lobster mayonnaise and a slice of bread – all neatly arranged on her dinner plate alongside a fried river trout and a few small pieces of turbot.

 

She ate as if in a trance, the innocuous chatter from the previous courses seemingly evaporating under the awareness of his gaze upon her frame – the knowing glint in the depth of his hypnotizing eyes signaling that he _knew_.

 

He knew that she had pined for him throughout his absence, unable to forget their final meeting in the drawing room at Takodana Manor. Unable to forget the promise he had extracted from her as her heart bled from the inevitability of his departure.

 

As Rey popped a piece of salmon in her mouth, the conversation around her blurred, until all she was aware of was the moist and tender meat she chewed on – and the burning gaze of the man she had thought would never see her as anything other than his friend’s annoying little sister.

 

It did not matter that they shared the same age. For Ben, she had always been a moppet, a petulant child with scraped knees who shared his love of mischief.

 

But now, she realized as her cheeks flushed crimson – and the opening at the apex of her thighs clenched with a burning need for which Rey had no name – he saw her as a woman.

 

The realization came with a host of questions. Had his regard for her changed upon the fresh discovery that other men found her desirable? Did the primal part of him now yearn to possess her, so that no man could claim her in his stead? Or had that desire always been there, masked by incessant teasing and pretense – and by the circumstances beyond his control?

 

So absorbed was she by this newfound discovery, that she had barely registered the moment when the servants cleared the table and made way for the penultimate course of the night, an assortment of vegetable based dishes.

 

Yearning for meals that would balance the ludicrous amount of meat she had feasted upon, Rey sampled each new dish brought before her: tomatoes stuffed with rice and carrots, croquette potatoes, boiled asparagus, and eggplants stuffed with peas and mushrooms.   

 

“Are you unwell?” she heard Ben whisper before turning around to face him, stunned by the softness of his gaze.

 

The people around them were far too preoccupied with their meals and conversation to notice their exchange, so she simply nodded, the movement so small it was almost invisible.

 

“Why?” Ben asked, his right hand gripping the edge of the table.

 

He had removed his gloves at the dinner table, and she stared at his hand with a mesmerized look, intrigued by the way his knuckles had whitened when his fingers dug into the pristine tablecloth.

 

“What can I do to help you?” he entreated, his gaze widening in earnest.

 

Lowering her eyes, Rey glanced at her yellow skirt, one of the many layers which concealed the wetness between her legs – one that never seemed to abate in his presence. Her body ached from an incessant throb for which she knew no relief, except for the pressing need to be touched.

 

Her face flushed at the notion, and her gaze travelled to the edge of the table which Ben had gripped so tightly, her mind desperate to piece together a jumbled array of thoughts. She took a deep breath, then trembled as she exhaled bit by bit, finding it hard to express herself.

 

“Rey?” she heard him whisper her name with concern.

 

Ben’s right hand left the table as he leaned forward. His fingers trembled as they neared her, and the tips brushed against her exposed elbow – skin touching skin for the first time in years beneath the table.

 

She shivered at the contact, and the moisture pooled between her legs anew – making her quiver with something akin to anticipation.

 

“What are you doing to me?” Rey murmured, the questioned aimed at herself more than at him.

 

Yet, despite that, Ben regarded her with a puzzled expression. His brows furrowed in the candlelight, and she saw him glance briefly at their companions, too absorbed in their discussions to witness the intimate moment. His fingers hovered over her elbow, as if here were uncertain how to proceed, desperate for her approval.

 

Tilting her body to her left, Rey allowed him access.

 

Understanding seeped into Ben’s frame as his fingers now gently grasped the place the meant to touch, his thumb caressing her heated skin in circles.

 

Rey closed her eyes at the sensation – warm flutters which spread through her body and made her tremble like a leaf. In response, she popped a piece of eggplant in her mouth chewing the tender morsel with ease.

 

To their companions, she was merely behaving like the Rey they knew – savoring every dish as if she had never seen anything more exquisite in her twenty years of existence. But, deep down, her appetite for food now mingled with a craving that was far more carnal and primal in nature – a need that demanded instant gratification.

 

How to accomplish such a thing, Rey did not know – the presence of their friends and the censure of society appeared to be an insurmountable obstacle – and the questions that lingered regarding Ben’s absence and his intentions seemed to demand answers which required privacy and time.

 

So, for now, Rey pushed the incessant thoughts to the back of her mind, resolved to enjoy the simple pleasure of Ben’s touch on her left elbow. The brush of his fingers on her skin was exquisite, and he touched her in this manner until his palm rested on her lap, covering her small hand with his own.

 

As the warmth of his hand engulfed her own – making her skin tingle in the most pleasurable way – Rey looked at his inquiring face. His lower lip quivered with the clear desire to provide the answers she sought, understandably hindered by the present company they kept.

 

Rey’s lips curled up in a reassuring smile and, as if they could communicate with only the use of their thoughts, they settled into a convivial silence, focusing on one of the many stories Finn had begun sharing over the course of the evening.

 

So enthralled were the rest by the tale which the young man had woven, that they failed to notice Ben was now eating with his left hand instead of his right.

 

 

~*~

 

 

By the time the final course was brought in, Rey was eager for the dinner to conclude.

 

Nonetheless, when the large plates of dessert were brought in, she helped herself to liberal servings of the most colorful array of dishes she had ever seen.

 

Much to her regret, circumstances had forced her to use both hands as she selected a variety of desserts, filling up her plate until it resembled a miniature mountain. Iced orange slices rested alongside an apple tartlet and a slice of pumpkin pie – which in turn rested alongside a slice of the most appetizing almond cake she had ever seen. A selection of puddings and jellies completed the impressive display of foods huddled together on her plate: marbled jellies in red, orange and yellow – appropriate for the time of the year – sat in a cluster in the center of her plate, together with a spoonful of vanilla pudding, a slice of grape jelly and a large serving of tipsy cake.

 

She devoured the pudding in one swoop, gripping the small silver spoon with her right hand. Then, with a knowing smile, she rested her left hand on her lap, palm upward, the invitation clear.

 

As if he had sensed her intent, Ben looked up from his slice of almond cake and picked up his spoon with his left hand, letting his right arm sneak under the table.

 

Fingers intertwined, they resumed eating as Rey moved on and sampled the grape jelly – the vibrant purple gleaming in the candlelight as she dug the tip of her spoon into the appetizing concoction.

 

“I’ve never eaten this much in my life,” Rey heard Phasma complain as she took a large gulp of her Madeira wine. “Armitage, be a darling and unlace my corset.”

“My dear,” the husband in question sputtered, nearly choking on his apple tartlet. “We are in public!”

 

Phasma waved her hand dismissively. “Would you prefer that I faint at the dinner table?”

 

With a grumble, Armitage stood up and approached his wife. “I apologize,” he said to their captive audience.

 

He quickly set out to unbutton his wife’s dress, only to fumble with the incessant crackling of the letters she had stitched to the garment, followed by the lacing of her too-tight corset.

 

Rey stifled a laugh, as she bit into an orange slice, delighted as the tangy juice filled her mouth.

 

“Phasma h-has a point,” Kaydel announced after munching on her pumpkin pie, her words slurred from the gin and wine she had consumed throughout dinner. “We should all unlace our corsets, ladies,” she proclaimed, fixing her own husband with a sharp look. “Up, Dameron.”

 

And so, the weary Captain Dameron set out to work.

 

Then, emboldened by the requests and the expectant stare of his fiancé, Sir Finnegan also stood up and walked over to his future wife, who rewarded him with a beaming smile.

 

As the other men struggled with the intricacies of feminine garments, two solitary figures remained in their seats, keenly aware of the restrictions imposed upon them due to their unmarried state – most of them applying to Rey.

 

Under the table, Ben’s hand squeezed hers in reassurance. “Do you want me to…” he began, his lower lip quivering as he visibly struggled with how best to word the suggestion.

 

Rey chanced a glance at her brother, who had removed two of the letters Phasma had stitched to the back of her dress for better access – aided by the knife they had used to cut into the tipsy cake.

 

“We shouldn’t,” she replied in a low voice taking in Ben’s flushed cheeks.

 

“I apologize,” Ben said, lowering his gaze to where their hands still stood, intertwined in her lap. “I shouldn’t have presumed –”

 

“At least not yet,” she continued before she lost her courage.

 

Rey’s own face burned crimson, and her breath grew uneven from the dizzying image conjured by her imaginative mind: large hands making quick work of the buttons of her dress, skillful fingers unlacing her restrictive corset, warm palms sneaking under her chemise to rest at the small of her back.

 

The flutter at the apex of her thighs returned, leaving her flushed and wanting. Overtaken by pure instinct, Rey brought the hand she was holding to her face, brushing her lips against Ben’s knuckles with haste – fearful that her gesture would draw the attention of the other guests.

 

As she looked up, she saw his eyes darken, and his breath hitched with something that resembled hunger.

 

He craved, she realized with a sharp inhale of breath, but he did not yearn for the extravagant fare – the seemingly endless meal which had been laid out in an elaborate procession throughout the evening.

 

He craved _her_. As a man craved a woman he wanted with his entire being – unwavering and unencumbered by the opinions of others.

 

“I want you,” Ben said with a low voice, confirming her suspicions.

 

In response, a new wave of heat washed over her as he settled their hands on his lap, letting her fingers trace the outline of a muscular thigh.

 

Her breath uneven, Rey allowed herself the luxury and novelty of knowing a man so intimately. But, beneath the storm of raging emotions which had taken hold of her throughout the dinner, questions lingered.

 

“Do you want me because others do as well?” she asked, her hand unconsciously moving upwards.

 

“No,” he replied with a slight smirk. “I want you for yourself. I always have, always will. From the moment we danced, I felt it.”

 

Biting her lower lip, she took a deep breath. “You left me.”

 

“I had to.”

 

“Why?” she asked, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

 

“I was not fit to court you then,” came his reply, his voice pained by years of guilt and sorrow. “You know that.”

 

“I never saw you as unworthy.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, keenly aware of the implication behind his renewed intent. “But, tell me, are you fit to court me now? Or am I doomed to suffer in silence on your account?”

 

“I am,” he said, the two words uttered with conviction. “I will make it up to you, Rey. I promise. Whatever you desire, I will fulfil.”

 

“Is that so?” she challenged him, her eyebrows arched as surprise and the need for reassurance swirled in the depths of her mind.

 

Ben nodded, then briefly glanced to the side to make sure they had no audience to witness the exchange.

 

“If you do not feel the same, I understand,” he assured her. “Two years is a long time, and you have every right to find happiness wherever you desire. If you feel that I am not worthy, if there is someone else who has caught your eye… I will leave you be. I will not trouble you.”

 

“And if there isn’t anyone?” she asked, her gaze colliding with his own in earnest – no longer afraid to look into the dark turmoil his eyes betrayed. “What happens then?”

 

“If you will have me, Rey, I will make you the happiest woman alive,” he replied. “I will give you my love – and hope to be worthy enough for you to give me your heart in return.”

 

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I have no heart to give,” she whispered. “You’ve had it with you for a long time now.”

 

“I was careless with it.” Ben’s hand squeezed hers, soft and inviting. “Will you forgive me?”

 

Rey nodded then, basking in the warmth of his caress, a touch she had thought impossible until this evening.

 

“Only if you dance with me tonight,” she replied, her lips curling upwards into a smile. “I’ve saved the first two dances just for you.”   

 

 

~*~

 

 

A hundred guests joined them for the ball which followed the intimate dinner. As they witnessed their host escort Rey to the center of the ballroom, each and every one of them openly gaped, fully aware that the lady in question had broken her vow to always sit out the first two dances.

 

“You will see that my dancing has improved,” she told Ben as she rested her left hand on his shoulder, dimly aware of the hushed whispers and stares which surrounded them.

 

In response, his right arm wrapped around her waist, fingers splayed on her lower back as he brought her against his broad frame – closer than what would be deemed appropriate at such a social gathering.

 

However, Rey did not mind his forward gesture, content to allow him such liberties at last, even if under the pretext of an innocent waltz. Her right hand brushed against his left palm with tenderness, welcoming its warmth against her trembling fingers, giving him leave to take her hand and lead her across the dance floor.

 

As soon as the orchestra began to play, Ben twirled her in an expert move that reminded Rey of the last time they had danced – the circumstances so different that the present day, as the shadow of tragedy dissipated under the promise of joy and hope.

 

“Did you think of me while you were gone?” Rey mustered the courage to ask, thankful for the privacy which only a waltz could grant them under such circumstances.

 

“Every day,” Ben admitted, the bright candlelight inside the ballroom making his eyes glisten. “I wish I had realized it sooner. And I wish the timing of my realization hadn’t been so unfortunate.” His right thumb drew a circle on her waist. “But surely you must understand why I felt I had to leave.”

 

She simply nodded, giving him leave to speak now that there was no risk of someone overhearing them.

 

“After the fever claimed my family,” he began, his jaw clenching in visible distress. “I spent a long time wondering why I was the only one who survived. I felt…unworthy…guilty.”

 

“You shouldn’t punish yourself for it,” Rey spoke up, her gaze travelling across his troubled countenance. “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I have never said this out loud to anyone, but I was the first one who fell down with the fever,” he admitted, and she squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “My father caught it as he nursed me back to health… and then it spread.”

 

“You are not to blame,” she insisted.

 

Ben glanced to the side, focused on their intertwined hands as they glided across the dance floor, her yellow dress swaying with each movement. “I know,” he replied, his hand squeezing her own in a reassuring gesture. “I know that now.”

 

“Was that why you felt you had to leave?” she asked, though in her heart she knew the answer already. Still, she wanted to hear him say it, if only to admit it to himself.

 

“I had to find a way to cope, I suppose,” he admitted with a nod. “To stand on my own two feet. Become the man I was meant to be.”

 

Her grip on his shoulder tightened, bringing his gaze back to her face. “And what kind of man have you become?”

 

Tracing her waist with his fingers, Ben took a deep breath – and in that moment she knew that what he wanted to say would change their lives forever, if she allowed it.

 

“The kind that wants to build a life with you,” he replied, glancing into her eyes, which had begun to glisten from the tumult nestled in her chest – desperate with the need to escape the public setting that forced them to appear detached in front of the outside world. “The kind that wants to court and marry you – that wants to give you a family and a home to call your own.”

 

He paused, as if his courage had momentarily deserted him, still fearing to presume too much.

 

“If you will have me, of course,” he continued after the brief silence.

 

In the background, Rey heard the dimming sounds of a waltz that was about to conclude.

 

As the ending notes played, they parted – the very picture of decorum to the oblivious attendants.

 

A short pause followed – enough to give the orchestra time to readjust the music sheets and instruments – but the one minute seemed to stretch on for an eternity, as Rey stood rooted in the middle of the ballroom, her gaze fixed upon Ben’s inquisitive expression.

 

In that moment, she remarked as he offered his hand anew – gloved only for the sake of propriety – it felt as if they were the only two people in the room. The couples who had gathered nearby for the start of the second dance were insignificant compared to the decision which now unveiled itself before her.

 

Glancing down at his left arm – the offering conveying so much more than the desire to partake in a promised dance – Rey placed her small hand in his waiting palm.

 

The heat of his touch seeped through the fine dark silk until it enveloped her completely.

 

She basked in its warmth, and she welcomed the throbbing at the apex of her thighs with joy, no longer afraid of how and why her body seemed to tremble in Ben’s presence with each passing second.

 

Then, as he wrapped his other arm around her waist – his palm settling on her lower back where it belonged – the familiar wetness between her legs returned. Thoughts of courtship vanished under the desire to claim this man as her own: for now and always.

 

“I will,” she replied as he expertly guided her into their second waltz. “I will have you.”

 

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed this starving author with comments and kudos, and you'll get some dessert in the next installment. :D ;)


	4. Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nom nom nom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to everyone who supported this story. I am extremely happy and grateful for your comments, kudos, messages and bookmarks. Thank you for reading this fic.
> 
> As promised, the last course awaits you all.
> 
> Special thank you to @loveofescapism for being an amazing beta.
> 
> @monsterleadmehome this is for you! I hope you enjoy. Thank you for giving me such an amazing prompt to work with. You're the reason this fic exists.

 

Four years ago, two sixteen-year-olds had snuck out of the large nursery at Varykino, upset at the adults in their lives for banishing them to the second floor, with only an apple tart and a milk jug for company.

 

Desiring to catch a glimpse of the festivities below – the ballroom restricted for the younglings who were not out in society at such an ungodly hour – the two had rushed out in their matching costumes until they reached the refreshment chamber attached to the ballroom.

 

The small witch and the gangly wizard were intent on mischief, and they were just as determined to let nothing stand in their way.

 

In a fit of rebellion, the witch and wizard plundered the dinner table filled with a variety of simple dishes. The meals were filling offerings for the guests to enjoy in between the tedious dances, but that did not stop the two younglings from stuffing their pockets with apples, nuts, and delicious plum tartlets.

 

Then, fearful of the approaching footsteps coming from inside the crowded ballroom, the witch and the wizard vanished, with barely enough time to grab the lone glass of sherry that rested at the edge of the dinner table.

 

As they hid amongst the garden shrubbery, the two munched on the nuts, apples and tartlets, and shared the glass of sherry amongst themselves.

 

Then, content with the mischief they had wrought, they made plans to raid the pantry of the finest pies and scones – before returning to the nursery with full bellies and thoughts of how wonderful it would be to plan a costume party of their own.

 

Now, four years later, two twenty-year-olds stood in a large bedchamber located at the second floor of Chandrila House – content to have found the perfect opportunity to escape the oppressive heat of the ballroom. Relieved beyond measure to escape the incessant stares of a hundred curious guests. They sat at the edge of an enormous bed that could only belong to the master of the house, sharing a glass of sherry as they looked into each other’s eyes.

 

They wore matching costumes despite how, to the untrained eye, the garments seemed to be on opposite sides of the spectrum. Night and day never meshed, but somehow, Rey pondered as she handed Ben the now empty glass of sherry, they had managed to achieve the impossible.

 

She watched as he stood up and placed the glass on the mantle of the roaring fireplace – the only source of light in his bedchamber – and smiled as she saw him tug at his cravat.

 

“Come here,” she beckoned him with a welcoming gesture, her hands eager to touch his skin.

 

Ben obeyed, padding across the room and kneeling at her feet. He rested his palms on her knees, parting her legs enough to fit his broad frame in between. She made quick work of his cravat, tossing the fine piece of clothing on the carpeted floor.

 

With a content sigh, she brushed her fingers across his jawline, pausing only briefly before she tilted his chin up.

 

“May I kiss you?” she asked him, fully aware of her own inexperience in that department, but desiring to learn everything she could alongside the man she loved.

 

Smiling at her question, Ben nodded, his eyes closing in anticipation.

 

Her hands rested on the side of his face and she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his own in a tentative kiss.

 

In response, his own hands squeezed her knees and he groaned, palms moving upwards until they rested on her thighs. The bold gesture gave her courage, and she pressed her lips to his until she felt like she was truly kissing him, not merely attempting to do something she had dreamed about for years.

 

Something she could not believe was happening at last.

 

However, when Ben started caressing her thighs, Rey gasped, the sensation sending a pleasurable tremor coursing through her body.

 

The awareness that his hands were only a breath away from her throbbing core, made her heart race with anticipation. As her lips parted, Ben deepened the kiss, his wicked tongue and lips tasting her in ways she had only dreamed about – having lost hope that she would ever be at the receiving end of his attentions.

 

Yet, here he was: kneeling at her feet as he worshiped her with every caress, drinking in her pleasurable sighs as keenly as she did his own. Her fingers danced across his jawline until they took refuge in the depths of his raven hair, pulling him closer to her lips in wordless encouragement.

 

When they finally parted for air, his eyes had darkened in the firelight, and his lips glistened – soft, plump and willing. His breath was as uneven as her own, and in that instant, she knew that their first kiss had marked his soul as keenly as it had done her own.      

 

“I have never…” she panted, running her hands through his rich hair, leaning forward so that her forehead touched his own.

 

“Neither have I,” Ben confessed with a shaky voice, his large hands travelling downwards, until they settled once more on her knees.

 

He rubbed smooth circles against the layers of fabric which concealed her flushed skin. With each movement of his thumbs, the need to divest herself of her restrictive clothing seized Rey with vigor.

 

“I want you,” she murmured, her breath calming down as the realization of what she truly wanted sunk in. “Now. Here.”

Ben leaned back, his hands leaving her knees in an instant. With his right fingers, he tilted her chin so that she looked straight into his eyes. “Are you certain?” he asked. “Do you not want to wait until…”

 

“No,” she interrupted him, her voice low, but etched with certainty. “I am done waiting.”

 

“We will be married regardless of what happens tonight,” he told her.

 

She smiled at the thought of their impending nuptials. At the start of the evening, she could not have predicted this turn of events.

 

To marry the man she loved had seemed like an unattainable dream.

 

“I know,” she murmured.

 

“I am not marrying you for the sake of propriety,” Ben resumed, his hands now gripping the edge of the bed, long fingers sinking into the soft mattress. “I meant what I said to you when we danced. I want to build a life with you, Rey. I want us to make a family of our own. I –”

 

He stood up, and her brows furrowed in confusion at his sudden movement. She watched him pace the room in a flurry, agitation embedded into his every gesture.

 

She tilted her head to the side. “Are you alright?”

 

At the sound of her voice, Ben stopped like a man held in a trance, his gaze momentarily bewildered. The moment, however, only lasted for a few seconds, and he began patting his dark dinner jacket as if he were looking for something he had lost.  

 

Then, in an instant, Ben’s expression changed – his countenance brightened by a stunning realization that left Rey breathless with both confusion and anticipation. His fingers slipped inside the pocket of his dinner jacket, located right over his heart.

 

The item he produced rendered her speechless.

Rey leapt to her feet, her gaze focused on the round metallic band in his hand, its round sapphire gleaming in the firelight. Her left hand trembled, and she brought it to her chest, settling her palm on her embroidered bodice in an effort to calm her pounding heart.

 

“Rey,” Ben uttered, rushing to her side until he was only a step away.

 

He took her right hand in his and went down on one knee.

 

In his other hand, he held the ring – and Rey’s delighted gaze travelled from the jewel to his face, overwhelmed by the adoration she glimpsed in his piercing eyes.

 

He did not have to say it out loud, for she had already guessed his intent. But, regardless of the knowledge she had learned from his eyes and actions, she still wanted to hear him utter those words to her. To bask in the devotion they implied, just like a flower would under the soothing rays of the morning sun.

 

“I love you,” he began, squeezing her hand in his. “It started many years ago, when I was too stupid to realize what that feeling even meant. But now I know my mind, and I came back hoping against all odds that you might feel the same.”

 

Ben paused, his lower lip quivering before he resumed. “Everything I have done tonight was for you.”

 

Her face broke into a smile. “I know,” she replied. “I know that now.”

 

Releasing a deep breath, he held out the ring. “Will you marry me?”

 

In response, Rey pulled him back up on his feet, tugging at the hand he held so tenderly in his own. She took in his expectant face, the wild gaze that she now saw could only belong to a man that was deeply devoted to her – a man who had used their time apart to heal until he could stand on his own two feet again.

 

“Yes,” she replied, holding out her left hand. “With all my heart.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

He slipped the ring on her dainty finger, and Rey’s mouth curled up into a beaming smile when she realized how perfectly it fit. Whether that was by accident, or the result of a good memory, it did not matter. What mattered was that Ben had returned to her, a man in love and with the sole purpose of standing by her side as equals – both confident in their place and purpose in each other’s lives.

 

“I warn you that I intend to have a brief engagement,” he said, making her glance up into his penetrating gaze.

 

“I have no objections to that,” she replied. “I trust you will be able to put your connections to good use and get us a special license?”

 

His hands wrapped around her waist, toying with the buttons at the back of her dress. “I will do so first thing in the morning,” he assured her.

 

“Of course,” she began, her fingers slithering upwards until they rested on his shoulders, knuckles brushing against the tips of his hair, “Of course, we could also elope. I have always wanted to travel to Scotland.”

 

“Your brother will probably kill me,” Ben answered with a chuckle.

 

Rey simply shrugged. “Not unless I tell him to. You know, he was so impatient to get married, that he did not even bother to summon me to London. I could repay him in kind.”

 

“You could,” he replied, playing along as his hands wandered across the expanse of her back and making her shiver with delight. “I would be a very lucky man in both cases.”

 

He leaned down, placing a kiss on the top of her head, his nose brushing against the crown of small sunflowers she wore to keep her hair in place. “In both scenarios, I end up married to you.”

 

“That is a very clever answer,” Rey said, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement.

 

“I aim to please.”

 

He pulled her flush to him, and Rey gasped as she felt something hard poke her belly. It caused her entire body to heat up with an exhilarating need, and an instinctual awareness that only Ben could satisfy the overwhelming hunger which had taken hold of her.

 

“Kiss me again,” she demanded, and her eyelids fluttered in anticipation until the firelight dimmed completely, the darkness she glimpsed heightening the anticipation.

 

He claimed her lips at last, the hesitation of the previous kiss vanishing in an instant under the certainty of their impending union. She allowed him free reign, content to enjoy the feeling of his soft lips on her own, the deepening of his desire with each movement of his tongue. Ben’s hands never stopped exploring, his fingers betraying his curious nature as he began the process of unbuttoning her dress. She responded in kind, slipping her hands under his expensive dinner jacket, eager to dispose of the inconvenient garment.

 

Breaking their kiss, he looked down at her with a wild expression, yet in between her panting and her own eager gaze, Ben guessed her intent at once. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it pool to the floor in an instant before he divested himself of his gloves.

 

“You are so beautiful,” Rey gasped at the sight of his hands, the long fingers free at last from their confinement.

 

He shot her a perplexed look, and she simply shook her head in response, turning around instead – a silent yet clear invitation for him to finish what he had started only moments ago.

 

“You offered to unlace my corset,” she prompted, reminding him of the intimate moment they had shared at the dinner table – aware of the obstacles which had prevented them from acting according to their own desires.

 

But now, as he neared and finished unbuttoning her yellow dress with its intricate embroidery, there were no barriers preventing them any longer – the privacy of his bedchamber shielding them from the judgement of the world.

 

At last, they were free.

 

Unlike the other men at the dinner table, Ben unlaced the corset with ease, unencumbered and unafraid of her demands.

 

The dress pooled down at her feet like melted gold, and the corset soon followed. He divested her of the troublesome layers until she stood in front of him in her chemise – virginal white contrasting with the dark colors of his own clothing.

 

Her crown of bright sunflowers was also quickly disposed of, the petals scattering as the wreath collided with the carpeted floor. With skill and patience, he unbraided her hair, pausing from time to time to run his hands through the long brown tresses.

 

“You are overdressed,” she pointed out once he had freed her hair from its restrictions, and his long fingers began toying with the hem of her chemise.

 

Ben smiled at that, and he stepped back, inviting her to undress him as he had done only moments ago.

 

“I am at your disposal,” he said, gesturing for her to proceed as she wished.

 

Rey did not hesitate, and she removed each garment with care, allowing him to step out of his shoes so that she might pull down his breeches. Fumbling with the buttons, she released him at last, gasping at the sight of a large protrusion shielded by the thin fabric of his shirt.

 

At her evident surprise, Ben could only chuckle. “You will soon find out, my love, that we are different in some respects.”

 

He removed his breeches by himself, and she divested him of his upper layers until she gasped again at an entirely different part of his body. The grip she had on Ben's shirt loosened, and her eager palms immediately settled on his chest, marveling at how firm and strong he was.

 

_Mine_ , the thought seeped into her mind, making her skin tingle with renewed want.

 

Splaying her fingers across his chest, she realized that while she had always known he was unusually tall and broad compared to most men, she had not anticipated just how much it would stun her to see him in the flesh – the picture of health and physical activity, combined with an unmistakable pull that was uniquely his own.

 

As for what she could glimpse below his waist…there were simply no words that could describe the length and girth of _that_.

 

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Rey murmured, focused for now on running her hands across the upper part of Ben’s body, touching his chest, his shoulders, his muscular arms – all under his visibly amused and perplexed gaze.

 

“I am the only man you have seen this way,” he corrected, and Rey could tell from his voice that he did not completely understand why she was in such a tizzy over his physical appearance.

 

_Well then,_ she resolved as one hand rested above his heart, _I suppose I must show him_.

 

Removing her hands, she looked up at him and raised her arms, silently begging him to remove her chemise – to face him just as he faced her, to bare herself to him both body and soul.

 

Tossing her chemise to the floor, it was Ben’s turn to gasp – and she could not help but chuckle at how his gaze wandered over her body, not quite sure what to focus on first.

 

“Now you finally see what I mean,” she proclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him in for a kiss.

 

From the stillness of his frame, she could tell that he was still in shock. Smiling against his lips, her hands moved lower until she cupped his behind, emboldened in a manner she had never experienced before. In response, Ben simply gasped, and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue to taste him as he had done so before, copying his own movements as she slowly discovered what he liked as well.

 

They kissed like that for a while, until they finally pulled apart for a much-needed breath and gazed into each other’s eyes.

 

“Come,” Rey said, resting her hands on his elbows. “Take me to bed.”

 

It only took Ben a few seconds to register her demand, but when he finally did he scooped her up in his arms, holding her against his chest as he carried her to the bed.

 

As he padded across the room, she placed small kisses on his jawline, taking pleasure in how his breath hitched when she accidentally grazed him with her teeth.

 

Soon enough, he settled her down in the middle of the bed, her back resting against the pristine sheets, her hair splayed across the pillow like the petals of a blooming flower. He settled himself by her side, using his left elbow as leverage while his right palm hovered above her hip.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” she told him when she noticed his fingers were trembling.

 

Taking his hand in hers, he settled it on her hip, shifting her body so that he could sink his fingers into her aching flesh. Then, with a smile etched on her face, Rey guided his hand until he cupped her buttocks, sighing in satisfaction as he lowered his eyelids and exhaled.

 

“You are so perfect,” he whispered.

 

“I am perfect for you,” she concluded. “As are you for me. It is as simple as that.”

 

Then, biting her lip, she squeezed his hand and guided him again. She could feel her cheeks burning as the thought formed in her mind – keenly aware now that this was how she could finally claim the relief she had sought all evening.

 

She guided his hand until it settled between her legs, her eyes never leaving his. Ben opened his own eyes then, and she saw his gaze widen in understanding.

 

His fingers finally moved against her own, the tips of his fingers buried in her curls, spreading the slick moisture which had gathered there.

 

A moan seized Rey then, and she closed her eyes as a pleasure she had never experienced built inside her.

 

“Is this what you want?” he asked her.

 

She could feel his breath against her face, and she whimpered in response before his lips claimed hers in a soft kiss.

 

Swallowing her moans, he continued to move his fingers against her core. He stroked her in circular motions, and the wave of moisture increased with every second to match the roaring fire which burned inside her flushed body.

 

Ben rubbed her aching mount in a straightforward manner, and she reveled in it – unwilling to be teased and tormented in her quest to seek relief. At one point, he had stopped kissing her, and Rey’s moans now echoed freely in the dimly lit bedchamber, conscious despite her fluttered eyelids that his gaze rested on her face, that his fingers were moving with a singular intent.

 

The thought of his piercing eyes and large fingers set her over the edge. Clamping her thighs around his right hand, she finally peaked pressing her core against his hand as he guided her back to the ground. He cupped her mound, and he leaned forwards to kiss her forehead as she panted.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked in between kisses.

 

Her eyelids fluttered open, and Rey could only nod. She had known for some time now that something had lain dormant inside her, a primal need which was nestled in the very depths of her being. Yet, despite the knowledge, she had never managed to unearth this secret – to give it meaning, to uncover how she could bring it to the surface.

 

But now, as she gazed into Ben’s eyes – those soulful pools of fathomless devotion – as she felt the heady sensation of his fingers on the most intimate part of her form… she had finally uncovered it.

 

And, as she registered the arch of his eyebrows, she realized he too was on the cusp of a startling discovery of his own – one that promised to be as pleasurable as her own had been.

 

Wetting her lips in anticipation, she parted her legs and allowed him to remove his hand from her core, blushing as she glimpsed the slick liquid coating his fingers. Ben, however, seemed untroubled by it, and he shifted on the bed until he loomed over her, using his hands to support his weight.

 

Leaning down, he claimed her lips again, the hand he had used to pleasure her sneaking down to part her legs until he was comfortably nestled between them. He resumed stroking her anew, claiming a new wave of moans and moisture.

 

His hard length jutted out, poking her aching flesh, leaving her with so many questions.

 

As if he had sensed her confusion, his clever hand found the opening cloaked by her curls and folds, and he slipped a long finger inside her.

 

“Ben,” she moaned.

 

Her quick mind set out to put all the pieces together, the incessant questions instantly provided with an answer. All except for one.

 

“How are you going to fit?” she whimpered as he pumped his finger inside her entrance, sending pleasurable tendrils coursing through her frame.

 

In response, he slipped a second finger inside her, stretching her opening as her mouth parted in a silent “O”, realization and pleasure intertwined in a delicious mixture.

 

He continued his thrusts, loving her with his fingers as effectively as he had done the first time around. From time to time, he touched a sensitive spot inside her that made her toes curl – his eyebrows furrowed in evident concentration as they both continued to learn what she liked best.

 

After a while, the same pleasure as before began mounting between her legs, and by the time Ben managed to fit another finger inside her stretched entrance, she was delirious from the sheer bliss of his touch. In the back of her mind, she knew she was close to reaching the same summit as before – awakening once more the exquisite feeling that had been eluding her for so long.

 

However, just as she was about to reach the final peak, Ben’s fingers withdrew with an obscene squelch.

 

She gasped at the audacity of his gesture, her mouth opening in protest to give him a piece of her mind. Yet all her complaints vanished the moment she felt the hard nudge of his arousal prodding her entrance, and her hands fisted the sheets with renewed eagerness.

 

When he finally slipped inside her stretched entrance, Rey’s vision blurred, tears prickling at her eyes as she let out a whimper.

 

Above her, Ben stilled, remorse and panic etched on his face. “I hurt you,” he said and began withdrawing from her warm opening, eliciting a cry of an entirely different nature.

 

With a swift movement, Rey’s hand darted out to cup his cheek, tilting his head so that he might face her.

 

“You didn’t,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with intent. “It is not that.”

 

How could she put into words what she had experienced just now? It was not pain that troubled her. He was large, and he had stretched her deliciously, a burning sensation mixed with tendrils of sheer bliss that made her feel…

 

“Aroused,” she murmured, the word she had been trying to uncover – as she’d pressed her thighs together all evening in search of relief – finally made itself known to her. “I feel aroused,” she resumed, wetting her lips right after. “I feel aroused. You didn’t hurt me.”

 

He was halfway inside, her tight opening stretching to accommodate him, fluttering against the hardness of his length as he embraced him like a glove.

 

She lowered her hand, letting it rest on the mattress as she allowed him to process her confession. Then, after a few brief moments, he pushed himself inside her to the hilt, making her moan loudly.

 

“How else do you feel?” Ben asked her, panting heavily, as if he had run for miles to find her.

 

“Full,” she murmured as he began thrusting inside her. “Stretched. Sated.”

 

His length hit the spot that made her toes curl, and Rey cried out in ecstasy, wrapping her legs around his waist to bring him closer to her. In response, Ben continued his thrusts, moving in and out of her at a slow and steady pace, his head resting in the crook of her shoulder as he inhaled her scent. Wrapping her arms around his body, Rey sighed with delight.

 

Their moans filled the large bedchamber, cries of pleasure that marked their mutual desire, and the night grew darker and darker, so did the intensity of Ben’s movements inside her snug opening. He began thrusting with vigor, and she encouraged his attentions, whispering heated words of praise in his ear, stroking his back with her thin fingers as she sensed him approach his own release.

 

They peaked together, clinging to each other with trembling arms and freedom etched in their hearts.

 

He collapsed on top of her, and she squeezed his back with her heated palms, unwilling to let him slide out of her core just yet. She pressed a kiss on his shoulder, his skin as flushed as her own, a sheen of moisture covering his flesh.

 

“You are so good to me,” she heard him murmur, his head still buried in the crook of her neck, placing matching kisses across her body.

 

Smiling against his skin, she kissed his shoulder again, the tip of her tongue darting out to taste him.

 

“As are you,” she whispered in return, her mind a mix of wondrous emotions and of the dizzying possibilities which now stretched before them.

 

He continued nuzzling her neck for a few moments before he resumed speaking.

 

“I think it is terribly unfair that you weren’t invited to your brother’s wedding.”

 

Her eyes widened, and a mischievous smile played on her lips. “Is that so?”

 

“Do you remember how we sneaked inside the pantry during Halloween?” he asked, trailing lazy kisses across her collarbone.

 

“Mmmhmm,” she nodded, one of her hands reaching up to play with his hair.

 

“I think we should do that again.”

 

Furrowing her eyebrows, she said nothing, allowing him to finish his proposition.

 

He looked up from her collarbone, and her confused gaze met his playful glance. “We will need provisions to last us on our journey to Scotland.”

 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, understanding rooted in her mind. “Are you planning an elopement, Your Grace?”

 

In response, Ben slipped out of her snug entrance and pulled her into his arms, shifting them both until his back rested on the warm mattress. She rested her cheek on his chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

 

“Only if you are a willing participant,” he replied, stroking her shoulder with the back of his hand.

 

“What about your guests?” she asked him with a knowing smirk. “Surely they must have noticed our absence by now.”

 

“All the more reason to get married, wouldn’t you say so?” he asked, kissing the tip of her nose. “The housekeeper can make sure everyone leaves the house in one piece.”

 

Rey chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist. “My brother will be furious,” she stated. “But I will protect you, my dear.”

 

She kissed his lips, basking in their softness. “I promise.”

 

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the dinner party. Please let this starving author know by leaving comments and kudos. Kudos are great, comments are everything... and this author hasn't had dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> The main course will arrive soon. Meanwhile, consider feeding the starving author with your love via comments and kudos. <3


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